


No Light, No Light

by Dirade



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Begging, Crying, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Guilt, HYDRA Trash Party, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jealousy, Kinda, Land of 1000 tags, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Recovery Bucky Barnes, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Public Sex, Punishment, Rape Recovery, Suicidal Thoughts, almost, briefly, but like not as bad, except it's 4 + 1, i swear it's happy, in the past, like he consents but out of obligation, really vague though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 02:12:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11049153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dirade/pseuds/Dirade
Summary: Steve knows Bucky is still recovering. But, sometimes, when Bucky laughs at his jokes and insists on chocolate ice cream for dinner and cartwheels across the gym, it's hard to remember that he's not the same man he used to be.or"Next time you're angry can you just hit me instead?"orBucky thinks Steve uses sex as punishment.





	No Light, No Light

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [暗夜無光 No Light, No Light](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11253348) by [blackmusicds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackmusicds/pseuds/blackmusicds)



> This is NOT meant to show Steve in a negative light. He is good and pure.  
> The title is from a Florence + The Machine song of the same name (would recommend).  
> To be clear, Bucky DOES consent, but he does so because he feels that he needs to, not that he wants to. I didn't tag this as rape because of this, and most of the sex is described in vague terms, but if this is a trigger for anyone please proceed with caution.  
> 

1\. Steve couldn't stop himself from sulking. Bucky had been busy lately; he hung out with the other avengers, went on a few covert missions, and recently he'd been recalibrating his arm with Tony. 

 

Steve knew that he was being dumb and immature, but a small, quiet part of him deflated when he saw Tony and Bucky laughing together. He wanted them to be friends, of course, but lately Steve felt like Bucky spent more time with Tony than with him. 

 

It wasn't that Steve didn't like Tony. The fact was, he liked Tony too much. Tony was a likable guy. He was funny, intelligent, honest, loyal, and a billionaire. Tony was so likable, in fact, that it worried Steve. In some dark corner of his mind, he thought maybe Bucky would change his mind, realize that Tony was much more entertaining - and certainly much smarter - than Steve would ever be. 

 

Not to mention that Bucky barely spent any time in their shared apartment anymore. They'd spent so much time together when Bucky still didn't trust anyone else, and the sudden lack of his presence was jarring. It all made Steve's childhood insecurity flood back. It felt like watching Bucky go on dates with the hottest girls in school while Steve stayed home sick. It felt like being scrawny and weak and trying not to wheeze when he breathed. It felt like watching Bucky kiss a girl while Steve wished he was in her place. 

 

Bucky walked into the apartment. Steve tried to play it cool, like he hadn't just been wondering when Bucky would realize how boring he was and dump him. 

 

“Hey, babe,” Bucky chirped, pressing a kiss to Steve's cheek before going to grab a water bottle. “How was your day?” he called from the kitchen. 

 

“Good. You were with Tony, right?” 

 

Bucky came back into the room. “Yeah, he's been telling me about trying to get a new power source in my arm so it runs on cleaner energy and stuff. He also said I should redecorate it. I was thinking about, like, something with blue, maybe? I don't want to get your shield because that's your thing, y'know? But I was thinking about some type of flower maybe, or one of those really intricate snowflakes…” 

 

Steve tried to listen, he really did, but he kept getting distracted by Bucky's obvious enthusiasm over spending time with Tony. Had Steve made him this excited about anything since he came back? He couldn’t help Bucky upgrade his arm, he couldn’t buy him lavish dinners and fancy suits, and Bucky had huge gaps in his memory so it was hard to bond over the one thing they had in common: their childhood. Maybe Bucky would be better off without him. Maybe he was keeping Bucky shackled to the past. Maybe Bucky just tolerated him out of some miserable sense of obligation. 

 

“Steve? Stevie?” Steve snapped back to attention to see Bucky frowning. “Is something wrong?”

 

“No, no… I just… I'm just a little distracted, I guess. Sorry. What were you saying?” 

 

Bucky studied him. “Are you… are you  _ jealous _ ?” 

 

“What? No, I'm - I just -” 

 

“You are!” Bucky exclaimed. “Oh my god! You're jealous that I'm spending so much time with him, aren't you?” Bucky sounded far too thrilled. He'd always been able to read Steve like an open book. 

 

“Look, it's not that I - I'm not trying to say you can't or anything, it's just - I get worried, y'know? I know it's stupid, but -” 

 

“Steve.” Bucky was smirking, but his expression softened at Steve's words. He sat next to Steve on the couch. “You have nothing to worry about, Stevie. I promise.” He took Steve's hand. “I’ve loved you for 70 years. That's not gonna change now. Stark’s great, but you're always gonna be my best guy, okay?” 

 

Steve ducked his head, a smile playing at his lips. “Yeah, okay. I know.” 

 

“Do you? Or do I need to prove it?” Bucky's face broke into a sly smirk. He leaned closer, brushing his lips over Steve's ear. 

 

Steve suppressed a shiver. “I wouldn't be opposed to that,” he murmured back, and then Bucky was straddling his lap, their faces barely an inch apart. 

 

Steve surged forward, capturing Bucky's mouth in a kiss. He felt Bucky smile against his lips and he opened his mouth, inviting Bucky inside. Bucky let their tongues tangle with a languid kind of grace, twisting a hand in Steve's hair to tilt him to a more comfortable angle. He pushed Steve back against the couch, pulling away with a gasp. Bucky licked his lips and Steve's breath hitched. “Still jealous?” 

 

Steve grinned, settling his hands on Bucky's hips. “I don't know… I think I might need a little more convincing…” 

 

Bucky chuckled as Steve licked his way back into his mouth. “Okay, babe.” 

 

 

The two of them stumbled into their bedroom and Steve kicked the door shut behind them. 

 

Bucky's heart jumped as his escape route was cut off. They were too high up for him to jump out of the window, but maybe he could scale the side of the building. This was Stark Tower, though, and it was hard to find purchase on the smooth glass that covered the exterior. He could just jump to his death. That was better than seeing Steve's disappointment. Unless the windows were made of reinforced glass. He'd still be able to get through but not before Steve tried to restrain him. He scanned the room for another option. He could lock himself in the bathroom. But then what? Steve would just break down the door. Pills wouldn't kill him fast enough. Maybe he could drown himself in the tub or even the sink, if he could get his head under the faucet. Still, that would take too long. He could try and slit his throat with one of the razors. He had guns in the closet. Maybe he could shoot himself before Steve had a chance to stop him. He could just barge through the door and run. But JARVIS would track him down and stop him. 

 

He could… he could ask Steve to stop. Say that something he ate isn't sitting well, or pretend to remember an errand he had to run for Stark or something. But talking about Stark is what got him into this in the first place. If he hadn't spent so much time with Tony, if he'd just payed a little more attention to his actual boyfriend, then Steve wouldn't have been jealous in the first place. Then Steve wouldn't need to stake his claim like this. 

 

Bucky hadn't wanted it to go like this. Or maybe he had. Sometimes it was hard to figure out what he wanted without someone telling him. 

 

Steve slipped a hand under Bucky’s shirt and the air was cold on his skin. Bucky felt latex gloves and metal cuffs and frostbite in his veins. He smelled chemicals and leather, heard the buzz of electricity, tasted blood. 

 

“Bucky?” The single word rang in Bucky's ears, echoed inside his skull. “Are you okay? Do you want to stop?” 

 

Bucky fell back into his skin. “No, no, I'm fine.” He forced a trademark smirk to his lips even though it made bitterness seep into his mouth. Steve still looked skeptical. Bucky tried to get the brightness to reach his eyes. “I was just thinking about what I could do to convince you,” he finally said. His cheeks were starting to ache. 

 

“I can think of a few things…” Steve kissed the corner of his mouth, pushing Bucky against the bed. Bucky let himself fall, digging the fingers of his flesh hand into the meat of Steve's arm because the fall had taken so much from him and if it was going to happen again he wanted Steve to hold him through it. It was a selfish, awful wish. 

 

Steve's hands slid beneath Bucky's clothes and Bucky exhaled shakily, moaned to make sure Steve was convinced. 

 

He stayed still as Steve stripped him, panted and begged for more when Steve started to finger him open. His handlers had always seemed to like it when he was enthusiastic, had always liked calling him their little slut and watching him nod and try harder to get them off, even if it was just so they would stop. He begged Steve to cum, begged Steve to make him cum, because the sooner that happened the sooner Steve would forgive him. 

 

“Please, pleasepleaseplease, Stevie,” Bucky slurred, clutching at every inch of skin he could reach. “Give it to me. C’mon, please, Stevie, Steve, fuck-” Bucky groaned, shaking through his orgasm as his own pleas rattled in his head. 

 

He felt Steve go still, felt him tremble where they were still pressed together. Steve tangled a hand in Bucky's hair, pressed his lips to the side of Bucky's neck. “I love you,” Steve gasped against Bucky's skin. 

 

“I love you,” Bucky echoed. “I'm sorry, thank you, I love you, I'm sorry.” 

 

Steve pulled out and the sensation made Bucky's stomach turn. “Why are you apologizing?” Steve brushed Bucky's hair away from his face. 

 

“I'm sorry. Please,” Bucky whispered, twisting his flesh hand in Steve's shirt. 

 

“I don't understand. Why are you sorry?” Steve was frowning and it made Bucky's chest ache. 

 

“I love you,” Bucky tried, but Steve still looked upset so Bucky flipped them over and sucked Steve off until he came again down his throat. He swallowed and crawled up the bed to snuggle next to Steve. 

 

Steve kissed his cheek, looping an arm around Bucky's back. “Are you sure you're okay?” Steve murmured into his hair. Bucky nodded. “We'll clean up in a bit,” Steve yawned, yanking the blanket over the two of them. 

 

Bucky tried to enjoy the warmth and companionship, but his skin felt like it wanted to crawl off his bones. He'd upset Steve and then payed for it, so he should be forgiven. Steve seemed like he'd forgiven him. But guilt still ran cold beneath his skin and he couldn't understand why sex felt so  _ bad.  _ He'd been through worse pain. He'd inflicted worse pain. 

 

He was getting weaker. 

 

He waited until Steve was asleep before pulling away and retreating to the bathroom. He curled up in the bathtub, wishing he was actually sick so he could throw up and get rid of the ice in his stomach. At least then he'd actually have something to be upset about. 

 

2\. Bucky didn't mean to ignore Steve. He really didn't. He'd just been so busy lately that it was hard to find time to spend with Steve. He and Natasha painted their nails together, he was helping Sam raise money to provide veterans with service dogs, and he was even friends with the old ladies he passed during his morning jog. He'd helped one of them carry groceries one day and since then every time he passed them he'd been waved over and had baked goods shoved into his arms. Even when he was home he was preoccupied with trying to catch up on movies and books that people kept recommending to him. So he'd ended up neglecting Steve a bit. Not on purpose, but that didn't matter. He'd done something wrong and now he had to pay the consequences.

 

So when Steve had asked Bucky to stay home that morning, Bucky had agreed. And when Steve kissed him and asked if he had anything important planned, Bucky had said no, and he'd let Steve lead him to the bedroom and pull him into bed and dip his fingers into the waistband of Bucky’s pajamas. 

 

And now Bucky was repenting. 

 

“You don't have to do this if you don't want to,” Steve murmured between kisses. 

 

“I want to,” Bucky assured him, sliding a hand up Steve’s thigh. “You've been feeling neglected lately, huh, baby?” Steve nodded, sticking his lower lip out in an exaggerated pout. “You want me to make it up to you?” Steve nodded again and Bucky felt his heart sink. “Okay, baby.” 

 

And so Bucky let Steve fuck him and was absolved. 

 

 3. “Shhh!” Bucky waved a hand in front of Steve's face, eyes glued to the screen of their TV.

 

“Did you just-” 

 

“Shhh,” Bucky interrupted. “This is my favorite part.” He watched with rapt attention as Merida revealed herself and got three perfect bullseyes. Steve remained uncharacteristically quiet, but Bucky was too engrossed in the movie to find it suspicious. But as soon as the scene was over the reality of what he'd said started to sink in. Bucky had just told Steve, his keeper, his  _ handler _ , to be quiet. His body wound tighter and tighter but he kept his eyes on the screen. He stayed as still as he could, like a rabbit hoping the fox hadn't seen him. But the fox could smell his fear. 

 

As a commercial started, Steve's hand settled on Bucky's inner thigh. Bucky would have flinched if that instinct hadn't been beaten out of him. Steve rubbed small circles into the sensitive skin and Bucky forced himself to breathe evenly. He stayed still as Steve pulled him out of his pants and worked him up. He did his best to stay quiet, biting his lip until he tasted copper, but he couldn't smother the high pitched whine that started in the back of his throat. “Shhh,” Steve chastised. 

 

Bucky pressed his lips together, digging his flesh fingers into the cushions of the couch. The movie progressed and Steve didn't let up, bringing Bucky to the edge again and again before stopping completely. Bucky whimpered as Mordu materialized from the darkness. Normally he would have clung to a pillow during this scene because he was allowed to do things like that now, but Steve still had a hand on him and he was being punished so of course he wasn't allowed to comfort himself with childish things like soft pillows and hugs. That was a luxury, a privilege, and right now he didn't deserve it. 

 

Steve was so far away from him, not even glancing over; it all felt so impersonal, so careless, like Bucky could be anyone in the world and it wouldn't make any difference. And then there was the fact that Steve didn't even seem like he was getting anything out of it. He could be playing a game on his phone, flipping through a magazine, and there wouldn't be any more emotion to it than he was displaying right now.

 

“Hush, sweetheart. Look at me.” Bucky jerked his head to the side, breath hitching as he thought that maybe, just maybe, Steve had decided that he'd completed his punishment satisfactorily. “What'd I just say?” Bucky's gut twisted. 

 

“To be quiet,” Bucky mumbled. 

 

Steve tightened his grip and Bucky sucked in a breath of air so fast he almost choked. “That's right. So are you going to do that or do I have to start this movie over?” 

 

Bucky frantically shook his head. He wouldn't be able to stand another hour of this. “No, Stevie, no, please… I'll be quiet, I promise I will. I'll be good, I'll be so good.” 

 

“Are you sure?” Steve asked, and his grip tightened again. 

 

Bucky forced himself not to curl inwards around the ball of heat and pain beneath his gut. “Yes! Yes, please, sir. I will, I really will. I'll be quiet!” 

 

Steve's grip faltered. “Sir?” 

 

Bucky froze. It had just slipped out. Since he'd come back Steve had encouraged him to use ‘Steve’ or ‘Stevie,’and so Bucky had, to make him happy. But he'd always called his handlers ‘sir,’ and now Steve was his handler and he'd just said it without thinking. 

 

“Do you like that sort of thing?” 

 

Bucky couldn't tell if Steve's tone was approving or disgusted, so he just whimpered and repeated, “please, sir.” 

 

Steve grinned. “Good boy.” 

 

Bucky shivered. 

 

Steve's attention focused on the movie again, and Bucky stayed quiet, his chest shuddering each time he inhaled. The combination of it all, the overload of sensation and sensitivity and Steve's passive nonchalance and the humiliation of being toyed with, made Bucky's eyes sting. Bucky sniffled before realizing that Steve hadn't given him permission to make noise. 

 

But when Steve turned to him all Bucky saw on his face was soft concern. “Buck? Do you need to stop?” Bucky swallowed around the lump in his throat and shook his head. “You sure?” Bucky nodded. 

 

Steve leaned over and kissed him and some of the tension in Bucky's stomach dissipated. “Do you wanna come, baby?”

 

“Yes, sir,” Bucky breathed. 

 

“Good boy.” 

 

4\. Bucky retreated to a sheltered corner of the quinjet and slid to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest. Guilt burned in his gut. The mission had been simple. And it would've gone perfectly if Bucky hadn't fucked it up.

 

They'd only taken one henchman to interrogate. They'd dragged him onto the jet and stood menacingly around him, but the criminal hadn't budged. He'd spit at them, cursed them, and then he'd gotten out of his handcuffs and was running at Steve, and Bucky… Bucky had shot him. 

 

The other Avengers had stared in horror at the blood on the wall and the room had gone still and silent. And Steve had given him that disappointed look. “We talked about this, Buck. No killing,” Steve had said. And Bucky had wanted to tell Steve that he was just trying to protect him, that the henchman could have gone killed Steve in any number of ways, but instead he had just nodded and stared at the floor. 

 

And now the body was stored in the back of the jet for later examination. 

 

When they went back to the base to see if they could salvage more information, they found the entire facility burned to the ground and all henchmen gone. 

 

And so Bucky had not only broken the sacred Superhero Code, but he'd also killed their first and only lead on the whereabouts of other bases. 

 

He'd compromised the whole mission. And now he was hiding in a corner, hoping that Steve wasn't angry enough to let the other Avengers punish him instead of doing it himself. 

 

Through the dull chatter and hum of machines Bucky heard footsteps approaching. Steve peered around the piles of boxes and machinery that obscured Bucky from the rest of the jet’s occupants. “Hey, Buck…” he cooed, worming his through the maze of junk into which Bucky had tucked himself. Steve brushed away an assortment of screws and files until he could sit down next to Bucky. 

 

“I'm sorry, Stevie…” Bucky mumbled into his knees. 

 

Steve wrapped his arm around Bucky's back and Bucky let himself tilt to rest his head on Steve's shoulder. “It's okay. I'm not angry. No one's angry. You were just doing what you thought you had to to protect me. There's nothing wrong with that.” 

 

Bucky sniffled, turning his head to bury his face in the rough kevlar of Steve's uniform. 

 

“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better, Buck? Do you want me to distract you?” 

 

Bucky nodded because he was used to saying yes, but when Steve tilted Bucky's chin up to lock their lips, every muscle in Bucky's body seized. Steve's thumb rubbed at the hollow behind Bucky's jaw, and Bucky forced himself to reciprocate. Steve rubbed Bucky through his pants and Bucky squeezed his eyes shut so hard that stars burst across his vision. 

 

He knew this was his punishment for compromising the mission. Even his body knew it; trained to respond to Steve, his blood was already betraying him and reacting to the touch. He knew he should be thankful that this was all Steve was doing. He should be grateful that Steve wasn't cutting his clothes off and forcing him to his knees. He should be grateful that it wasn't Tony who was fumbling with the front of his pants, that it wasn't Clint's tongue down his throat. He should be grateful that Steve wasn't letting the Avengers use his mouth one by one, that they weren't forcing his legs open and calling him a slut. 

 

And maybe this was Steve's way of letting them still have a taste. Maybe knowing that all the Avengers could hear him was Bucky's penance, a personalized punishment from each member. 

 

But it was too much. Bucky knew he was going to be punished for it later, but he just couldn't stay here, like this, knowing everyone else could hear them. He knew he was going against orders. He knew he was being weak. He wondered, sometimes, if Steve wished that he was still the Winter Soldier: strong and brave, following orders perfectly and taking his punishment silently. 

 

“Steve…” he whispered, strained. 

 

“Shh,” Steve hummed back, and Bucky's skin itched with humiliation. “Just let me take care of you.” 

 

Bucky swallowed a whimper. The slick sound of skin on skin pounded inside his head. It was too loud. Everyone could hear them. His face burned. “Please,” he breathed as Steve pulled him onto his lap, Bucky's knees bracketing Steve’s hips. “Please, Steve…” 

 

“It's okay, Buck. I've got you.” 

 

Steve was still tugging at him and the knot of heat in Bucky’s gut wound tighter. He tried to control his breathing, tried to stop letting out those broken little gasps that he stifled in Steve’s shoulder. 

 

“They can hear us…” Bucky whined, voice wavering from keeping it so low when all he wanted to do was scream. 

 

“It's okay. No one’s paying attention. I just want to make you feel better; don't worry about anything else.” 

 

“I'm sorry,” Bucky whispered as a last resort, even though sorry couldn't  bring back the man he killed or fix the mission. The heat built inside him, but he didn't want it, he couldn't come, he wouldn't be able to keep quiet, they'd hear, everyone would hear, and he couldn't, he just  _ couldn't - _ “No, no nono,” he started, barely had enough air to finish. “No, stop, Stevie, please, please-” He sucked in air and tried to be quiet but it wasn't enough, it would never be enough, not for his handlers and not for Steve. He pressed his face into the curve of Steve's neck and spoke so quietly he could barely hear himself. “Please don't make me, Stevie, please. I don't want to - I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-” 

 

Steve stopped moving, but Bucky was too afraid to pull away and see the anger on his face. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Bucky repeated over and over. Steve didn't answer and Bucky clung to him tight, digging his fingers into Steve's uniform. 

 

“Shhh, Bucky… it's okay. I'm not gonna do anything you don't want,” Steve soothed, one hand resting over the small of Bucky's back while the other brushed through Bucky's hair, tucking his head down on to Steve's shoulder. 

 

Bucky's eyes stung and he felt his throat start to close. It almost felt like being forgiven.

 

But then Steve reached down to his pants again and Bucky reared back, not enough to get away, but enough to start pleading again. “No, no, please, Stevie,” Bucky gasped, shuddering through a sob. “Please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” 

 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Steve cooed, repositioning his hand at the base of Bucky’s skull and pressing him down. Sinking nausea swelled in Bucky’s stomach. He had to do what Steve wanted. Steve wasn’t going to wait until they got back to the Tower. Bucky knew he deserved it, that he shouldn’t have tried to get out of his punishment, but tears still leaked from the corners of his eyes. He went limp against Steve’s chest. “That’s it,” Steve mumbled. “Good boy.” Steve’s hands were on him again and Bucky squeezed his eyes shut. “Just gonna zip you back up, okay?” And he did. “I’m never gonna make you do anything you don’t want to.” Bucky trembled against him, heart aching at the tenderness of it all. “Thank you for telling me, sweetheart,” Steve continued, voice soft. “If I ever do anything you don’t like, you just have to tell me and I’ll stop. I’m so proud of you. You’re doing so well, sweetie.” 

 

Before he could stop himself, Bucky was sobbing into Steve’s shoulder, clinging to him as if he might be wrenched away at any second. “You did so good,” Steve whispered to him, rubbing his back. “I know that must have been hard for you. You did so well, baby.” 

 

Bucky exhaled shakily, knotting his fingers in Steve’s hair. He knew he didn’t deserve it, but he let Steve comfort him, just this once. 

 

 

+1 Sex with Steve wasn't always bad. Sometimes Bucky liked it. Like today, when Steve had taken him apart slowly, whispered sweet nonsense into his skin, kissed him lazily as they snuggled beneath the sheets afterward. 

 

Bucky extricated himself from Steve's embrace, flopping onto his stomach before pushing up on his arms to stretch out his back. Something in his spine made a popping sound, and he sighed in content before folding himself back down to rest the side of his face on his arms. He watched through one slitted eye as Steve yawned and he hummed appreciatively when the blonde pulled the blanket up over Bucky's bare hips. Steve clambered off of the bed, pulling on a pair of clean boxers before laying beside Bucky, propping himself up on one arm so he could rub a hand over Bucky's back. 

 

“Hey, Bucky?” 

 

“Yeah, Steve?” 

 

“You're birthday's coming up.” 

 

A laugh burst from Bucky's lips. “My birthday's over a month away.” 

 

“It’s never too early to start planning,” Steve said with a grin. “We're going all out this year. I'll get you anything you want, Buck. Just name it and it's yours.” 

 

Bucky closed his eyes, letting the sensation of fluffy blankets and sunlight soothe his skin. This was Bucky's first birthday as an official member of the Avengers and Steve had been going overboard with every holiday they'd spent together after Bucky had adjusted. Steve had tried to take him to fireworks for the Fourth of July and Bucky had woken up back at Stark Tower with the echo of gunshots still rattling in his head. Another time, he'd woken up to find the entire apartment decked in green glitter,fake snow, and candy canes for an impromptu Christmas surprise and Steve had found him fifteen minutes later, curled in a corner waiting for the Hydra operatives who had recaptured him to strap him to a table and force a bit into his mouth. 

 

Bucky had been getting better since then. Loud noises didn't send him careening into nightmarish memories. He could wake up to a slightly different apartment and realize that he wasn't in another place, that it was the same room he'd fallen asleep in. 

 

Even when Bucky couldn't handle a celebration, Steve came up with a way to make the day special. On his first birthday back Steve had given him a gorgeous painting of a sunset over the Brooklyn skyline and a fancy watch (which Bucky broke, but it was the thought that counted). For Halloween he'd ordered a giant chocolate cake and drawn a picture of all the Avengers as different animals. 

 

Growing up, they'd never had the money to celebrate extravagantly, and Bucky had lost so much to his decades with Hydra. He knew that Steve wanted to give him everything he'd missed. He knew that Steve wanted to pamper him with the finest things money could buy now that they could afford it. Bucky loved it, of course. He gladly accepted expensive chocolates and fancy wine and sparkly hair ties in every imaginable color. But his favorite things were the ones Steve made himself: a sketch of Bucky and his sisters, a flower crown, a breakfast of blueberry pancakes. The things money couldn't buy were what he treasured the most. 

 

So, for his next birthday, he didn't want to ask Steve to get him a motorcycle or a coffee machine or a dog. He could get all those things later. He wanted something special, something only Steve could give him. 

 

And maybe it was the sun on his skin, or the endorphins still pumping through his veins. Maybe it was because he felt safe enough, finally, to request things from Steve. Maybe it was because Sam kept nagging him about learning to ask for what he wanted. Maybe it was because he really was getting weak. 

 

But, hidden behind the darkness of his closed eyes, the words just tumbled out. “Do you think… Can you… Next time you're angry, can you just hit me instead?” 

 

Steve's hand froze. 

 

Everything in Bucky stopped. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Steve's hand twitched and Bucky's body kicked into overdrive. His heartbeat pounded in his head, his wrists, his throat. His lungs spasmed, a weight pressing on his chest as it got harder to breathe. He scrambled into an upright position, but he didn't open his eyes. 

 

“Bucky-” 

 

Bucky flinched. Steve sounded disappointed. 

 

“Sorry, I - I just -” It came out in a rush, Bucky's words bleeding into each other. “I really don't like being punished a - and I know I'm not supposed to, that's the point, b - but -” He inhaled sharply when he felt Steve's hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes, keeping them trained on his fidgeting hands, and saw Steve sitting up in his peripherals. “I j - just thought that maybe we could switch it to - to hitting or something, or - or you could cut me or use a belt or burn me or not let me eat. That way it would still be bad, but not as… I just don't like…” 

 

“I'm not… Bucky, I'm not going to  _ hit  _ you.” 

 

Bucky dug his nails into his thigh. “I know. I’m sorry. It was stupid. I know I don’t get to decide my punishment.” 

 

“I… I don’t want to punish you!” 

 

Bucky blinked as fast as he could so he wouldn't start crying. “I know. I know that you don't want to do it. You're just trying to help me. If I didn't keep messing up you wouldn't have to punish me.” 

 

“No, Bucky, I don't -” Steve took a deep, shuddering breath. “Ok. Ok. Just… just start from the beginning, Buck. What do you want?” 

 

“I…” Bucky looked off to the side, but that was still too much, so he closed his eyes. “I don't want to use sex as a punishment. Please.” He could feel his heartbeat in his fingertips and the air escaping his lips. 

 

“Bucky…” Steve breathed, and his hand came to cradle Bucky's, pulling it away from where he was scratching at his own skin. Bucky opened his eyes and stared at their entwined fingers. “Sex isn't supposed to be a punishment. When I said I didn't want to punish you… I meant that I'll never intentionally hurt you. It doesn't matter if you messed up or did something wrong. I don't have the right to decide to punish you for it. I don't want that kind of control over you. We're equals.” Steve sighed. “And I obviously made you believe that I… was in charge of you, somehow, but that's not what I wanted, at least not before we talk about it first. I'll be anything you need, but I never want to hurt you.” 

 

_ Anything you need. _ “I need to be punished,” Bucky mumbled. He felt hollow, felt the wind whispering inside his bones. “So I can learn.” 

 

“No, sweetheart, no…” Steve cupped Bucky's face, guiding him to make eye contact. Bucky dropped his gaze, but didn't pull away. “Everyone makes mistakes. You don't need to be punished for it.” His thumb stroked Bucky's cheekbone. “You learn by acknowledging your mistake and doing better next time.” 

 

It was so different from the words burned into Bucky's brain. Steve's voice was so gentle, coaxing. It made Bucky's eyes sting.

 

“Bucky, do you think I use sex to punish you?” Steve asked. His mouth was set in a solemn line but his eyes were wide and vulnerable.  

 

Bucky fidgeted, chewing his lip. “N - not always… not today…” 

 

Steve nodded. “Okay. Can you tell me when I did use it to punish you?” 

 

He sounded so serious, not quite the icy calm he had when he was defending the underdog, but expressionless enough to make Bucky's heart clench. Bucky lowered his head and let his body curl down. “I'm sorry.” 

 

Steve made a distressed sound. “Can… can I hold you, please?” Bucky nodded and Steve sat behind him, pulling Bucky to his chest in a tight embrace. “I'm not angry. Nothing you say will make me angry. I won't punish you.” He stroked Bucky's hair. “I'll love you no matter what, okay? I just want to know when I made you feel bad, that's all.” He pressed a kiss to Bucky's neck. “You're not going to get in trouble.” 

 

Bucky straightened and pressed back against Steve, just so he could feel the warmth against him skin, the safety that Steve still represented, would always represent. 

 

“When… when you were angry that I was spending time with Tony…” Bucky breathes, wrapping his flesh hand around Steve’s forearm. “And when I was… ignoring you b - because I was busy…” Steve remained silent behind him, so Bucky pressed on. “And when we were watching that movie a - and I told you to be quiet and then when I killed that man because I thought he was going to attack you…” 

 

“Oh, Bucky…” Steve sighed. 

 

Bucky pulled Steve's arm to his own chest, imagining it holding all the broken pieces of himself together. “I'm sorry, Steve.” His voice cracked, becoming wobbly and frail. He sniffled. “I don't want to be bad, I don't - ” He cut himself off when he drew in a sharp breath, struggling to see past the tears welling up in his eyes. 

 

“I never wanted you to feel this way. I never wanted to punish you. Sex is supposed to be… I wanted it to be something we could both share. I wanted to make you feel good. And I thought it did make you feel good. I didn't… I didn't realize…” Steve's voice wavered, stealing the air from Bucky's lungs. “I'm so sorry, Bucky. I love you. So much. I just wanted to make you feel good and I'm… I'm  _ so sorry _ that I failed you.” His embrace tightened. “I don't want to punish you. If you never want to have sex, that's fine. If you don't want to kiss or hug or touch me, that's fine.” His grip loosened, as if to emphasize his point. “If…” Steve took a deep breath. “If you want to leave… If you don't want to stay with me anymore… You can do that. I won't stop you. I won't look for you. Anything you want, Bucky. I never, ever wanted to hurt you. And I'm never gonna do it again.” 

 

Panic vibrated in Bucky's chest at Steve's words and he squirmed in Steve's grasp, turning to face him. “I - I don't want to leave. Please don't make me go. I’m sorry.” He sniffled, swiping his wrist over his eyes. “I - I know I’m bad, but I’ll get better. I will! I’ll st - stop talking back and I’ll get a job and I can clean or run errands for you or - or… Please. I’ll do anything you want.” 

 

Steve lunged forward, squeezing Bucky in a hug so tight that his bones ached. “No, honey, of course not. I’ll never make you leave. I… I just don't want you to feel trapped here. If you want to stay you can, of course, but I won't force you to be with me. That's all I meant. I won't make you leave, darling.” 

 

Bucky shuddered, twin trails of tears slipping down his cheeks. “Stevie,” he sobbed, hiding his face in Steve's shoulder. “Don't let me go.” 

 

“Never,” Steve whispered back, kissing Bucky's hair. “I'm with you till the end of the line.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let's hear it for cliche endings!  
> Part 3 is a scenario from another fic I read that I don't remember the name of. If you know it, please comment so I can link it! I think they were watching the Princess Bride in the original.  
> Edit: the fic I was looking for was Kellyscams' As You Wish, which you can read [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6534454)  
> (Also sorry for any formatting or grammatical errors I'm doing this instead of my homework please send help)


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